


Attitude Adjustment

by BananaFana0883



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaFana0883/pseuds/BananaFana0883
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty one-shot that ties into my WIP, Here's Looking at You, Kid.  This is also out of order and takes place a few weeks after that one wraps.  There isn't much plot here, it was mostly an excuse to write dirty sex - and it's pretty dirty, be warned.  Oral, squirting, facial, light bondage and a tiny blood mention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attitude Adjustment

"Jesus Christ, don't you know how to load a fucking dishwasher?"

The words were softly uttered, but still Gwen's voice carried into the living room, pulling Raphael's attention from the video game he had, up until about two seconds ago, been engrossed in.  He glanced toward the kitchen, annoyance bubbling up at the sight of her rearranging all of the dishes he'd -  _ kindly  _ \- loaded into the machine after dinner.  What the fuck was her problem tonight?  She'd been stomping around the apartment all evening, snapping at him, snapping at the kids, even at Cookie . . .

"HA!  I beat you!" Sean sang out, jabbing a finger at the television screen.  

"Hey, don't wake up ya sister," Raph said softly, tossing the controller onto the couch beside him and rubbing a hand gently over Betsy's back.  She was asleep on his chest, her face nestled into the curve of his neck with a trail of drool creeping slowly down his plastron, and he carefully maneuvered her into his arms before levering himself off the couch.

"I kicked your butt!" Sean added, thumb hitting the button until they were back at the character selection screen.  "This time I'm gonna be Bowser!"

"Nah, c'mon," Raph said, heading for the bedrooms.  "S'time for bed."

"Awww, just one more game?"

Raph stopped at the door to Betsy's room and glanced into the kitchen where Gwen was still stomping around, apprehension settling heavy in his gut.  He didn't have enough experience with women to feel confident navigating these waters and he'd been on tenterhooks all night.  He couldn't put it off forever though.  He was sure that whatever was bothering her would come out once the kids were in bed.  "Tomorrow," he promised, disappearing into the bedroom.  "Say g'night to your mother and then get'cha teeth brushed."  

A silly bedtime story later and Raphael came out to find Gwen picking up the living room, her movements sharp and angry, and he hesitated.  He had no fucking clue what to say and the awkward shuffle of his feet drew his girlfriend's attention, brown eyes settling on him.

"Wiimotes get put away," she snapped, movement  from the corner of her eyes drawing her attention to Cookie as the puppy sniffed at the controller that Sean had left on the floor and then settled on the rug to get to the very serious business of chewing on it.  Gwen reached down and plucked it from the pup's grasp, setting it on the entertainment center before scooping the puppy into her arms, crossing the room and depositing her against Raphael's chest.

Naturally, his hands came up to cradle the pup, but the motions were automatic.  Okay.  That was it.  "Did I do somethin' wrong?" he demanded as she turned to walk away from him.  

Gwen paused mid-step, then abruptly turned back to him.  "No, Raphael," she said, tone downright  _ bitchy _ .  "You didn't do anything wrong."

Confusion knit his brow.  If he didn't do anything wrong, then why the fuck had she been giving him the cold shoulder all night?  He felt utterly lost.  "Sure seems like it," he said, absently tucking the wiggling puppy under one arm.

Gwen huffed, eyes drifting around the room as annoyance passed over her features.  "I'm not mad at you, Raph," she said, making an effort to dull that sharp edge from her voice.  "Sometimes I just get in a mood, okay?  Sometimes I just get fucking annoyed with everything and feel like being pissy."  She huffed again, lifting her hands in an exaggerated shrug as her voice rose again, "God!  You do the same fucking thing!  You stomp around treating everyone like shit!"

Raphael's shoulders tensed, anger and hurt and confusion all tumbling through him as he struggled to figure out just how to respond to that.  Had it been one of his brothers, the answer would have been simple - he'd smack the shit out've 'em - but Gwen?  Well, she wasn't  _ wrong _ .  Course, that didn't mean he wanted to admit it . . .

"Fuck it," she said suddenly, turning and stalking toward the kitchen with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"No," Raph demanded.  "You ain't walkin' away from me."  Two strides took him across the living room where he deposited the puppy into the makeshift playpen, and then he was following his girlfriend with every intention of continuing this . . . whatever the fuck it was.  

***

Gwen didn't even make it into the kitchen before the angry footsteps had her spinning on her heel to face him, her back to the peninsula that separated the kitchen from the living room.  She watched him as he headed toward her with aggression taut in every line of his body, easily picking up on the emotion bubbling up in his chest, that he was struggling to keep in check.  She didn't want him to hold back though; she wanted that red hot emotion to bubble over and scald her . . .  

"What's with the fuckin' attitude, Gwen?" Raph snapped, pushing into her personal space until she had no choice but to retreat a step, back pressing against the counter.

Gwen's eyes lit with sudden excitement, breath picking up as adrenaline spiked and his scent filled her nose, rich and masculine and intoxicating.  She shrugged, eyebrow arching.  "Can't handle it?" she challenged, eyes darkening as they met his.  

His nostrils twitched, catching the change in her scent, and his pupils dilated in response.  She could clearly see the moment he realized what she was doing, a feral smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he leaned in close and rumbled, "Needs an adjustment."

Gwen's tongue traced over her lips, the deepness of his voice sending a trembling warmth through her abdomen.  "A good  _ screw _ , maybe?" she suggested, a husky edge to her own voice.

He braced his hands on the countertop beside each of her hips, leaning in to brush his nose along the curve of her jaw and Gwen let out a frustrated growl.  She didn't want tenderness; she wanted that raw power, the animalistic drive that fueled his rage, the alpha male that butted heads nonstop with his brother.  She knew it was in him, but she was the experienced one - the one who had been taking the lead while he was figuring everything out - and she didn't want to call the shots this time!  She wanted to be  _ fucked _ .  

She reached up and pushed his face away, shoving hard at his chest, but he outweighed her by hundreds of pounds and there was no moving him if he didn't want to be moved.  "Fuck Raph, I'm not made of glass!" she snapped, seizing an outlet for her frustration and slapping her open hand into the center of his plastron.  

"What?" he asked, staring down at her with a perplexed expression that would have been far more charming had she not been about ready to tell him to go home.

"You're not gonna break me!" she insisted.  "As much as I like being in charge, sometimes I just want to get  _ manhandled _ ; I want to just get fucked hard."  She locked her gaze with his, "Can you do that?"

He stared at her for the span of a heartbeat and the curl of his lip sent a thread of delicious anticipation straight to her core.  "Yeah," he ground out.  "I can do that."

Huge hands landed on her hips, easily spinning her and bringing a surprised gasp from parted lips as Gwen found herself bent over the peninsula, the formica cool against her suddenly flushed skin.  "Yes," she purred, pressing her ass back into the hardness of his groin, but one heavy hand between her shoulder blades stopped her from moving any further.  

"Stay still," Raphael ordered.  His hands slid up her back, over her shoulders and down her arms, gently stretching them above her head, and then he clasped both of her delicate wrists in one vice-like grip.  

Gwen let out a breathy moan, the noise tinged with eager excitement, and she couldn't quite stop the wiggle of her hips in response to this new game that she was thoroughly enjoying.

"I said, stay still," he ground out, the words nearly drowning out the whisper of cotton.  

The noise caught Gwen's attention and curiosity had her tempted to crane her neck and try to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, but he'd told her to stay still and his weight against her back had her pinned quite effectively to the counter. . .

Seconds later, her question was answered and, with her chin planted on the counter, she watched as he began to bind her wrists in red fabric - his bandana, she realized, had become a rather sexy prop and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't entertained this very idea in the few weeks they'd been together . . .  

"That's hot," she admitted, the feel of his breath of the back of her neck sending a shiver creeping down her spine and her eyes drifted closed in pleasure.  "You gonna fuck me now, Raphael?"

"When I'm ready," he answered, brushing her hair away from her neck and nipping at the nape.  "Now stay still . . ."

The sound of heavy metal dragging across formica had Gwen's eyes blinking open and, for one heart-stopping second as she caught a glimpse of the sai in his hand, fear raced through her body and then--

_ Thunk. _

Gwen's head snapped up, wide eyes focused on the weapon embedded in her countertop, the prongs effectively trapping her wrists, cushioned as they were by the bandana wrapped around them.  "Holy shit!" she gasped, the words riding out on a breathy laugh.  Her heart was racing, the fresh wave of adrenaline setting every inch of her body aflame and, absurdly, she wondered how she was going to explain to Val that she'd need a new kitchen counter . . .

The thought was short-lived though as he straightened and took up the second sai, slipping it beneath the hem of her shirt. 

"Raph, are you--?"  The words died on her lips at the sound of parting fabric, the honed edge of the weapon sliding easily through the cotton of her tank top from waist to neck.  It was only once he'd set the sai back onto the counter that she gasped in a breath, the arousal coursing through her body leaving her head spinning.  

Rough hands smoothed over the newly bared skin, fingertips trailing over the ridges of her spine, the bumps of her ribs, before strong fingers slipped into the waistband of her yoga pants.  "You wet yet?" he asked, dragging them down over the curve of her ass and Gwen was glad that he didn't bother waiting for an answer because the act of forming words seemed an insurmountable task at the moment.  

His hands slid down to cup her ass, to grab two handfuls of flesh, and Gwen let out a noise that was startlingly close to a purr at the urgency that suddenly took over his movements.  He was a groper, she'd quickly learned, hands everywhere at once and lips only a heartbeat behind and, at this moment, he was lavishing her with attention.  Kisses, nibbles, licks, dropped all along her back with the occasional bite that had her sucking in a hissing breath in preparation for demanding  _ more _ . . .   

His attentions moved lower, over the dimples of her lower back, and then he set teeth to the meat of her cheek that brought a yelp from her lips.

"Sorry," he rumbled against her skin, but Gwen didn't hear even the faintest hint of regret in his  tone.  

"No you're not," she fired back, over her shoulder.  

"Nah, I ain't," he agreed with a chuckle.  "I'll make it up t'ya."

Gwen smiled, anticipation lighting her eyes, "You'd better."

And -  _ oh! _ \- but did she ever approve of his methods!  He quite literally shoved his face against her bared cunt, the sensation of lips and tongue and nose nearly overwhelming and Gwen found it impossible to separate the sensations.  Her breath stuck in her throat as she squirmed against him but his hands on her hips held her tight, immobilizing her as he - and she swore it felt like it! - tried to devour her whole.  There was no finesse there, no delicacy or skill, but luckily Gwen didn't need it; she'd never been the type to need a gentle touch.

"Oh, fuck!  Holy fucking shit, Raphael," she found herself gasping and then the orgasm rocked through her,  _ hard _ , and her hips bucked against his grip, the unyielding metal trapping her wrists biting painfully into skin, and warm wetness slicked her thighs.

Gwen's head was spinning, waves of intense pleasure still coursing through her body and suddenly he was there, pushing inside of her and stretching her around that impressive cock of his - and without missing a beat, she came again.  He didn't give her even a second to ride it out, pounding into her with an urgent need that overrode his typical caution and sending near-painful jolts through her body with every thrust. 

Those huge hands gripped her hips hard and she wouldn't be surprised to find bruises there later but in that moment, it only added to the sensations she was lost in.  The world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them - filthy words falling from scarred lips, panting, pushing, writhing, grabbing, biting . . .

"I need to--" Gwen gasped, "touch you."

His rhythm barely changed as Raphael reached up and easily yanked the sai from the formica, tossing it onto the counter to join its twin with a clatter.  He paused just long enough to change position, flipping her onto her back and pulling the yoga pants off her, and then he was dragging her hips closer so he could plunge into her again.  Her body gave him no resistance, eagerly swallowing him up again so he could continue his race to the finish line and, as he did, Gwen twisted her bound wrists until there was enough slack to free one hand completely.  

She reached out and pulled him closer, hands sliding over his shoulders, his arms, up his neck to stop on the back of his head as he closed his lips around one nipple.  Her moans encouraged him, hands grabbing roughly at her breasts as he left reddened skin in his wake.  "Fuck," he ground out, face pressed into the valley between her breasts.

He was so close, Gwen could tell, but even still she pushed him away, snapping a  _ shut up _ at him as he began to question her actions, but then she was sliding off the counter and dropping to her knees in front of him and the words died in his throat anyway.  She took him in her mouth, head bobbing as she swirled her tongue with practiced motions and her eyes lifted to look up the length of him.  His eyes were shining feral in the low light of the kitchen, his breath coming fast, but when she reached up to rub his tail, his knees nearly buckled and he reached out to brace himself on the edge of the counter.

Gwen pulled back with a wet pop, "Are you okay?"

"Oh god," he rasped out, reaching down to push her head back toward him.  "Don't stop."

Well, that answered that.  Gwen wrapped her lips around him again, her hand kneading at his tail, squeezing and pulling, and a strange noise that Gwen had never heard before vibrated through him. It was the only warning she had before his hips jerked and thick tendrils of semen hit the back of her throat.  She gagged, pulling her head back as she instinctively swallowed whatever had made it into her mouth, but the next spurt landed on her chin and the next dribbled down the center of her chest.

"Holy  _ shit _ ."  

At his words, Gwen tipped her head back and found him staring down at her intently, his breathing ragged and face flushed.  With a saucy smirk, she ran her tongue over her lower lip, catching a bit of pearly white there and pulling it into her mouth.  

" _ Fuck _ , yer so sexy," he groaned.  "C'mere."  He reached down and helped her to her feet but when her legs wobbled, he boosted her back onto the counter again.  "That was . . ."

"Amazing?" Gwen offered.  "Spectacular?  Mind-blowing?"  She smiled, "All of the above?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a sated grin.  "All'uv the above."  His eyes ran over her perched on the edge of the counter, taking in the thick mess left behind and he reached to untie the bandana from her wrist, brow furrowing as he spotted the darkening bruises at the joint.  "Ah fuck," he breathed, turning her hand over to find a smudge of blood and a small cut on the inside of her wrist.  "I'm sor--"

"Don't you dare fucking apologize," Gwen snapped, but there was no malice in her tone.  "You didn't do anything wrong.  You can get me a band-aid later and we'll call it even, okay?"

He met her eyes, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "Deal."

She hooked her heels around his hips and pulled him in closer, wrapping her arms around his neck as she said, "Besides, it's not the only injury I'm sportin'."  She was about ninety percent sure there was a perfect print of Raph's teeth on her ass and she had some serious shell burn on her lower back.  "But don't worry about that now," she ordered, pressing a kiss to his lips and tasting her own juices there.  "Tell me about that noise you made just before you came . . ."

"Oh my god," he laughed, dropping his forehead to her shoulder in obvious embarrassment.  "Do I have'ta?"

Gwen's smile pulled into a grin and she reached up to grab his face, tipping his head so she could see him, "Yes, you have to!  What was that?"

Raph sighed and gave a shake of his head, "It's a . . . churr."

"A churr?" she repeated, eyebrow rising.  "Is that a good thing?  Was it from when I touched your tail?"

He made a noise of affirmation deep in his chest, pushing her hands away from his face so he could conveniently nuzzle into the side of her neck and not have to meet her eyes.  

"Why are you embarrassed?" she asked, tapping lightly on the top of his head.  "It meant I was doing something right, didn't it?"

"Mhm," he confirmed, finally pulling back so he could see her face again.  "It's just kinda . . ."  He struggled to find the words he was looking for, before giving up and simply shrugging one huge shoulder, "I dunno."

"Seriously?" Gwen asked, incredulous.  "After  _ that  _ you have no reason to be embarrassed!  You gave me multiple fucking orgasms, you idiot!"

The embarrassment melted away suddenly, replaced by an undeniably proud grin as he said, "Yea I did."  His brow ridges lifted, "You were fuckin'  _ loud  _ too.  We're lucky yer kids sleep like the dead."

"Oh my god, don't say it like that!" Gwen laughed, swatting him on the shoulder.  Her nose wrinkled, eyes sparkling with contentment, "They really do though, don't they?"


End file.
